Angel's Reprisal
by DeathSerpent
Summary: Ezekiel looked up to find a girl falling from a gaping hole in the ceiling. She wore pristine white robes and had perfectly kissable lips, though at the moment they were open and being used to scream bloody murder. A halo of light sat atop her head and she held a blade of pure energy. A pair of shimmering white wings trailed behind her uselessly. And she was falling towards him.


**Angel's Reprisal**

**`DeathSerpent**

**Disclaimer:** I do not own anything within the Harry Potter series.

**Chapter 00: Prologue**

The sky was an endless pool of stars. The sapphire and golden bodies of fire swam leisurely in the deep blue expanse above. The moon was dark on this night, as if urging the stars to shine on brighter than ever before.

But none of this nocturnal beauty reached the robed figure who rushed up a flight of stairs, his boots making soft noises against the stone. Nearing the end, he looked around cautiously before slipping out of the shadows and through a wooden doorway.

He entered a room littered with what looked like ancient relics and worthless junk. A stack of scrolls sat next to a round stone slab and a few broken necklaces dangled precariously over the edge of an oak shelf. A sword embedded with emeralds hung on the wall, and several paintings were lined up as their occupants moved from one to another. At the back of the room stood a desk, cluttered with bottles of ink and discarded quills. A tall man sat behind the desk, buried quite literally in his work. He was very old, judging by the length of his silver hair and beard, which fell below his waist. He wore amethyst robes and had sparkling blue eyes hidden behind a pair of half-moon spectacles. He looked up as the figure approached.

"Take a seat, my boy." The man frowned at the boy who remained standing. "You know why I have called you here?"

"You wish for me to complete an errand of yours, professor."

"Not quite," the man replied, smiling slightly. "I have an assignment for you. A long term assignment, a mission, almost. It is of the utmost importance, yet the near entirety of the wizarding world does not know of its existence."

The boy flipped his hood back, sensing there would be more than a few sentences to listen to and asked, "It is a hidden threat?"

"Essentially." The man nodded. "Do you know anything of necromancy?"

"It is a mythological type of dark magic."

"Almost. Necromancy is commonly known as Death Magic, but it is neither magic nor myth. There have been a few necromancers scattered throughout our history, though most of them never go through a proper education and therefore use their powers for their own good, killing many. Wizards and witches who fight necromancers often die in the process, after which the necromancer erases all traces of the battles, including the bodies. That is why we know so little about them."

"And why are you giving me this information now?"

"My boy, I know you are smart enough to know why."

The boy was greatly annoyed by this statement, but his interest kept his frustration at bay. "I am going to be dealing with one in your assignment."

"Yes. And to deal with a necromancer, you must know enough about necromancy to distinguish him from a crowd, how he operates, and how to fight him." The professor shuffled through his countless sheets of parchment before pulling out four. The first page had seven symbols on it. "Here are the symbols we have managed to salvage from the memories of the fallen before they were eliminated entirely by necromancers." He pointed to the first with his wand and the circle came off the page, transforming into a fiery ball. "This is the sun. We believe it has something to do with Life, because the sun fuels all living things on Earth. Remember, without Life, there can be no Death." Next, he conjured a gray fog from the parchment. "This is the second symbol, presumably Death. It is dark and inspires fear, the common reaction of people to Death. Of the next five symbols, their meanings are unclear." He pulled each symbol from the paper in turn, coming up with a silvery thread, a fiery staff, a pair of wings, an ever-shifting body of matter, and a ghastly mist.

The boy stared, amazed yet skeptical. "And what of the other three sheets you have?"

"You may read those in your own free time, my boy. I want you to go out and find the answers I require. When you have completed your research, return to me and I will determine our future actions," the professor ordered, standing up.

The boy narrowed his eyes and nodded slowly. "Very well." He turned around and began to walk to the door, taking the professor's gesture as an allowance to leave.

"Tom."

He looked back at the man in purple robes, whose eyes had suddenly lost their shine.

"Do restricted books on dark magic interest you?"

Tom froze. Did Dumbledore know his plans? _That's insane,_ he thought. _There is no possible way or anyone to know of my intentions. He's probably just telling me that I can do research on necromancy using books from the Restricted Section._ He put up a smile, though he was almost certain the professor knew it was fake as well. "Yes, sir." _There's no point in denying the facts._ "I want to be able to defend myself and others in case Grindelwald attacks Hogwarts."

"You know that won't happen." The man frowned. "I won't let it happen."

"I know, sir, but I want to be sure of my abilities," Tom stated. "Accumulating power and knowledge is the only way I can accomplish that."

Dumbledore looked at the young Slytherin warily.

"Indeed. But be careful, son. Be careful."

* * *

**R&R**

**Aim: 50 chapters, 5k words each; 1 author-insertion Q&A section every 10 chapters; story covering 7 years**


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